“I can do it,” I pleaded. “Please.” A pained noise came from me, my focus going over to my aunt Morgan, cousin Liam, to Sam, Rory, Roan, and Breena. The family I was supposed to get to know, to have in my life, to laugh with and maybe see on holidays. “I can’t lose you, not again.”
Eabha’s hold tightened, her gaze showing me something was still there. “I feel s-so lucky to have m-met you.” She reached up, her skeleton hand cupping my face. “Pr-proud of you. You. Are. Ammm-a-zing. Jussst like your f-father.”
Tears spilled down my cheeks, my head wagging in rejection of this outcome, while my heart broke into pieces.
“I love you, Mom.” A sob wrenched up my throat.
The only reaction I got was a squeeze from her fingers before she stepped back with her clan. Aunt Morgan dipped her head at me, then they melted back into the woods.
Grief clawed my lungs, forcing me to take small, stunted breaths, trying not to fall to the ground.
Warwick didn’t speak, but I felt him move behind me, his shadow grazing inside me, telling me without a word to take what I needed.
Stepping back into him, I used his physical body to keep me standing. The cruelty of getting my mother back to lose her before I had any chance to know her crippled me.
Tad turned, shuffling toward me, his mouth opening when a threatening growl came from Warwick behind me, vibrating into my back.
Tad dipped his head. “We’ll be inside when you are ready.”
Eliza and Zander helped Tad, all three retreating into the cabin, leaving us alone. The tap of raindrops dripping from leaves padded the damp earth. The pulse of magic from the nectar seemed to echo in the spot my mother had just left.
I could feel them near, forever guarding, forever close to me, but forever beyond my grasp. A family I had wished for, dreamed of.
“Brexley,” Warrick muttered against my ear. The sound of my name on his lips cut across my chest, where a guttural sob formed.
Raging pain.
Agonizing fury.
A tempest of anguish screamed from my soul. I was so tired of pain, of loss. I wanted to destroy. I wanted the world to feel what I did. To end it once and for all.
The nectar continued to pound inside the box, every thump telling me to take it, that it could end my pain. Give me the power to bring life to my family again and take the lives of those who had hurt me.
“No.” His arms went around me, stopping me from reaching the nectar.
“Get off of me!” I shoved against him, wailing and thrashing. Anyone stopping me felt like a threat. Blocking me from what I needed. I couldn’t take another breath if I didn’t act. If I didn’t open the container. “Let go!” I rammed my elbow into his stomach, only getting a huff from him.
“Go ahead, fight me, Kovacs. Hit me. Take it out on me.” His grip on me tightened.
Devastation turned off logic. Violence rose in place of my suffering, desperate to cut out the hurt.
With a cry, my spirit dipped inside him, siphoning energy from him. Using his strength against him, I rammed my head back into him, cracking against his nose. His hold loosened, allowing me to slip out of his arms. Swinging around, my arm flew out, clipping his chin, stumbling him back more. Adrenaline howled in my veins as I pounced for him. He spun, getting out of the way, a feral smile pulling his mouth as blood ran down his nose.
“Come on, princess, show me what you got.” He patted his chest.
Snarling, I lurched to the side, swinging out my leg and kicking his hip. He let out a grunt, the wildness in his eyes sparkling.
“I’m waiting for you to actually challenge me, Kovacs.”
I leaped back for him, my fists hitting, my feet striking out. Noises like a wounded animal howled in the air, and I knew they were from me as I slammed my fist into his gut.
Ire flared in his eyes as I struck his face.
My fisted hands pummeled his torso and head, splitting more cuts across his face, bruises puffing around his cheek. Loud cries shredded from my throat, going from rage to a whimper.
Warwick clasped my wrists together. Twisting me around, he locked his arms around me, pressing his body into mine.
“Let me go...” I only halfheartedly tried to fight him before I felt my energy break, crumbling into sand. He pulled me to him tighter, my legs caving under me, my back bowing forward, as the grief overwhelmed me. He held me as my sobs broke out in crashing waves. He embraced me tightly, like he was wringing the pain out of me. And I let him, falling into him. Using his steady frame, his warm arms. His love.
Slowly the cries quieted until the crickets and drops of water filled the silence.
Lifting my head, I turned to him, my eyes finding his. More grief covered my face as I took in the damage I did. Reaching up, I touched the cuts, rubbing my thumb over the bruises.
“I’m so—”
“Don’t even, Kovacs.” He cut me off, his hand covering the one on his face. “I’ll heal. Plus...” his arms went around me, touching our foreheads together. “This is fucking foreplay for us. Just wait for what I’ll do to you later.”
I tried to smile, but it was empty, and I leaned my head into his.
“You okay?” His mouth brushed my hairline.
“Yeah.” I felt the lie burn on my tongue.
Tucking loose strands behind my ear, he didn’t respond, not buying it either.
Chirp! Chirp! Chirp! High-pitched squeaks came from the backpack I still had on.
“You? I feel like blended brownie batter!” Opie came stomping back up to my shoulder, this time Bitzy on his back, her eyes glaring, her middle fingers sticking up high. “Next time, can we watch from the sidelines, not be part of your mating ritual?”
“Oh, shit.” A laugh, I wasn’t expecting, burst out of me, my hand slapping over my mouth. I had completely forgotten they were still in my backpack.
“Yeah, we did that too.” Opie folded his arms in a huff. “Though you might mistake it for brownie batter, I guarantee it’s not.”
Chirpchirpchirpchirp!
“She really doesn’t like you right now,” Warwick smirked.
My eyes widened, another crazed laugh fizzing up my throat as Bitzy chewed me out, but it grounded me, brought me back to what was in front of me. The things I could control. I was far from being okay about the situation with my mother, but once again, I didn’t have the luxury of time to work through it. It was for another day. We had too much to do. All our friends were still in Věrhăza. And a war none of us were ready for was on our doorstep.
One day, all of it would come back for me, and something deep inside was terrified of that time, but today was not it.
Warwick let go of me, his gaze on me, his fingers winding through the ends of my hair.
“You ready?” He tilted his head to the cabin.
Taking a deep breath, I nodded.
“You go first.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m fucking hard as a rock and really don’t want my nephew to see that the only thing I want to do is fuck you against the wall,” he growled at me.
“Oh.” Heat coursed through me, wanting to do the same. Memories of the night before were still fresh in my mind.
“Might have to take a walk later. I already know the walls are too thin for what I have in mind.” His hand went to my back, putting me slightly in front of him.
“Well, we might be competing with another pair later anyway,” I smirked, winking back at him. I didn’t know for sure what was going on between Eliza and Zander, but the chemistry was thick between them.
“Wait. What?” Warwick stopped, unblinking at me. “Who?”
I smiled coyly, strolling for the door.
“Kovacs?” he strained.
Peering back at him, something caught my eye in the forest. I couldn’t see her, but I could feel my mother’s gaze on me, an innate awareness of her.
Gritting my teeth together, I grabbed the handle of the door, about to step in when I swore I heard a whisper across the back of my neck.
“I love you too, daughter.”
Killian’s top-shelf whiskey slid down my throat, the smooth burn warming my belly and numbing the pain I was trying to lock back in a box. It also ebbed the call to the nectar, and the possessive need to run back outside and snatch it up, to take what was mine.
“Obviously, you all escaped High Castle after we left,” I prompted Tad. He sat in his chair across from me, pillows stuffed behind his back, keeping him propped up.
“Yes.” He smiled warmly up at Eliza when she set a cup of tea down on the table next to him.
She returned to the sofa, where Simon had cuddled up to his uncle, not wanting him out of his sight. The little boy tried so hard to stay awake. Zander, as usual, stayed out of the way, but I noticed he was always near Eliza, helping her with the tea or watching her anytime she moved.
“I remember little as you well know; I was not really coherent when you departed.”
Tad had been shot by HDF several times, bleeding out. I had been sure he’d die on that hill.